Melissa's Place

Otis-less

Yesterday was a sad, sad day. For the first time in two weeks, Mark and I found ourselves Otis-less. We hardly knew what to do withourselves. Mark kept asking if I was sad. I think he was sad. We missed the way Otis would run around chasing his tail or his shadow or the way he'd eat dandelions and look up at you with a stem dangling from the corner of his mouth. We missed the way he'd jump on your head in bed and the way, when you held him in your arms, he'd squirm around to try to lick your head. We missed the way he'd burrow under the covers in bed and curl up in a ball by your tummy or in the crook behind your knees and rest his chin on your leg. We missed wondering if he could breathe under there. We EVEN missed the excuse he gave us to go for frequent walks and have conversations with neighbours who normally wouldn't even consider talking to us. We missed debating endlessly from which angle his face was less offensive. We even missed his snoring.

We reached a turning point, Otis and I, when I took him to the off-leash park and he was bounded upon by a german shephard puppy. The bound was unwelcome and it scared the ripe-old-shit out of Otis, who from that moment on, would not leave my side by more than six inches. He had adopted me. I was his protector and it was kind of nice.

Otis was kind of like a trianing-dog for us. He walked us through some pre-parenting strategies. So now, thanks to Ot-er, Mark and I are actually considering getting a puppy or puppies in the near future.

It's just hard to imagine any dog that we'd love as much as him.